AU. Her voice was soft and smooth and she smelled of vanilla. She reminded him of vanilla ice cream, topped with golden hair. Plain. Bland. And at the heart, nothing more substantial than sugar. Unfortunately, his scorching look hadn’t melted her away.

It
would be Heero's last glimpse of the Earth.
At least from this close-up. He glanced out the shuttle window at the
familiar landscape he had come to loathe, noting that the sky, at least,
mourned his leaving.

It was grey and
ugly. So were the people. There was a dullness in their eyes, a
blindness to the world around them. Only
a colonist could really appreciate, could truly see the Earth and its
inhabitants for what they were.

Ugly.

The
planet had none of the smooth lines and brilliance of the more advanced space
colonies. He missed the clean, geometric
design. The beauty of space couldn't be
seen through the atmosphere. Only the
sea held any splendor. But his job had
kept him indoors all day. Just thinking about the smell of dirt and burning
grease nauseated him. But he was leaving – going back to the colony he hadn't
seen in more than two years.

The
fact he hadn't done what they accused him of wouldn't matter once they found
out he had a record. It was best just to
move-

"Excuse
me?"

He
turned to see a girl about sixteen or seventeen staring down at him, a large
satchel on her back. Heero glared,
hoping she would get lost.

"Is this seat
taken?"

Her voice was soft
and smooth and she smelled of vanilla.
She reminded him of vanilla ice cream, topped with golden hair. Plain;
bland; and at the heart, nothing more substantial than sugar. Unfortunately,
his scorching look hadn't melted her away.

He snarled. "No."

"May I…sit here?"

Heero closed his
eyes and lay back against the dishrag the stewardess had called a
'pillow'.

"I'll take that as
a yes," she mumbled and slipped into the seat.
He cracked his eyelids just enough to watch her struggle out of the
straps on her bag, an expensive brand, to stow it in the underseat
compartment. She buckled her seatbelt
and settled into the cushions. Her hands
weren't calloused; her fingernails were perfect. The girl had money. Or, at least, her parents
did.

"What's your
name?"

He didn't answer.

The smile faded
from her lips. "Sorry to bother you."

"Heero." Damn, he
was getting soft.

Blue eyes glanced
up. "Relena Darlian."

The name. It sounded
vaguely familiar, but he was certain he'd never seen her before. He shrugged it off, and before another word
could be exchanged, the announcement came on. The craft tilted upright, and
within minutes, the shuttle launched.

*************************

Movement
jolted Heero awake. He opened his eyes
to see her fighting to dislodge her bag from the compartment. The thought occurred to him that she probably
had a few things of value inside - enough for him to get his own place as soon
as he got to the sector.

She retrieved a
notebook and balanced it on her armrest before bending forward to wedge the bag
back under the seat. In her struggle, she knocked the pad to the floor, several
pages scattering beneath their feet. A photograph
landed right-side-up.

He glanced at the
picture of her family in front of a Christmas tree. They seemed happy, her parents wealthy, and
the smile on Relena's face was much brighter than it appeared in person. The void in his chest expanded as a dim recollection
of his own family flit through his mind.

Then they were
gone.

He reached down to
claim the photo from the floor. Nothing
in common but our age.

Heero tapped her
shoulder. She turned, her eyes distant, her
mouth poised to smile. But then her gaze traveled to the picture in his
hand. Her face crumpled beneath the
burden of some heavy emotion. A shaking
hand reached out for the photograph.

He knew that look:
raw pain mixed with regret and loss. Something tugged his heart from the clutch
of emptiness, and he raised the armrest that divided them.

She launched
herself at his chest, burying her face into his shirt as she began to cry. His arms went around her shoulders. It hurt so much to hold her.

"It was my fault.
Father was always so busy…I didn't understand…."

His brain clicked,
matching the name, finally, with the newspaper article he read a few days ago.
Senator Darlian and his wife had been killed by a drunk driver, their only
daughter left alone for the holidays. And for the rest of her life.

It was a story he
knew too well.

Heero looked down
into her eyes and felt….

His mouth settled
over hers. She tasted sweet like vanilla
ice cream, and his fingers tangled themselves in her golden hair.

The gentle
connection broke. Relena stared up at
him – hair slightly mussed, lips reddened from his kiss, light tracks in her
makeup from her tears.

And she was
beautiful.

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